Remember Me
by she who laughs
Summary: After the shooting, students at Degrassi will never be the same. Everyone has changed in peculiar ways, and told in the view of Emma Nelson, this narrative sets them apart as the unthinkable begins. Read and review!
1. Funeral Service

I went to his funeral. There weren't very many people there, just me, Toby, and Sean – the last ones to see him die. I'm fairly sure that Jimmy would've come to, if he hadn't been unconscious in the hospital now, on the brim of death. It seemed that death was making its way around Degrassi quite frequently now, and to tell the truth, it scared me.

The funeral was held in a church, filled with chairs, tables, and all of the food I could've ever asked for spilled out on buffets. There was a microphone at the front of the room, and the pastor that prayed in his name looked kind of worn down as he glanced out at the four of us – his mother was there as well, but his father 'hadn't been able to make it.' Apparently he'd been on business, but I don't know what could've been more important than his own child's _funeral, _for heaven's sake.

I felt bad about coming, really, I did. After all, it was one of those ironic experiences that makes you feel like you were the cause of the problem. Maybe I was. After all, hadn't he turned to me? Wasn't I the one that had held his heart, or so he believed? Wasn't it my responsibility to love him back in order to keep his heart from being wrenched out of his stomach? I'd asked Toby over and over, striving to keep my tears from falling in a cascade across my cheeks, but he wouldn't have known. He just told me that it wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could've done… But he didn't know. He wasn't there. Sean? Well, let's just say that things between us were definitely over. It was hard to talk to him – like, _really _talk to him – anymore. We had formed a gap that couldn't be breached. We were separate now, never again to be a union. That was why I found my security in Toby.

Toby was everything anyone could possibly want in a friend. He was compassionate for others, always willing to give a hand when I needed to be pulled back up. He wasn't drawn into the world of sports and fighting, and he _always _had time for me, which made me feel happier than I had in a long time. My life was hard, believe it or not, and being Emma Nelson certainly wasn't easy. There were constant rumors flying about, and it was sometimes hard to tell whether my friends were actually my_ friends_, or just pretending to be.

"I pray you, ladies and gentlemen," the pastor said with a fault in his voice as he spoke into the microphone, gazing over our heads at the stained glass of Jesus that hung in his crucified being. "We are here today to hang our heads in the death of a boy, a boy that deserved to live-"

"Liar." I heard it from my right, that tiny mumble that just came out of Toby's mouth. His eyes were red, trying to keep from crying, and I rested my head on his shoulder sympathetically, feeling his frame move upward as he took a breath in. The pastor stirred, raising his eyebrows with disappointment as his gaze met Toby's. I turned and looked away as a tear escaped my eye, but I wouldn't let it show. I was too proud for that. I'd always been proud, forgetting about the others around me and not letting them see the weak side of myself.

Sean wasn't crying either. He was standing to my left, biting his lip. I couldn't imagine what it must've been like to be in his shoes, having held the boy in his arms, drenched in his fresh blood. I know that I wouldn't have been able to live with myself, and it didn't seem like Sean was doing that well either. But I had to question myself over and over again – hadn't he had to endure enough already? I knew that he was changed, but it seemed that his reputation still hovered over him like the little black rain cloud from my dated Winnie the Pooh storybooks.

I sniffled for a second before turning my head to the ground, praying silently. _Dear God, _I thought. _If there is a God, after all, I hope that you'll help Sean through this rough time and – _

"Amen," the pastor finished, cutting me off. Eagerly I finished my own silent prayer. _Andhelphimtorealizethatitwasn'thisfault, Amen._ There, that was fast. "Now, we turn to the casket. Please bow your heads."

We all did.

The casket was brought in by two members of the church, and I wondered for a moment what they were smiling about. There was _nothing _happy about that day. Then it hit me – they had no idea who had died. They didn't _know _how his death had come to be, the shooting of Jimmy and Sean, and the terrible events that had followed. I felt my eyes strain in anger as I glared at them, laughing before putting on mock faces of sadness as they walked into the room. But then again, I supposed that I shouldn't have been glaring at them – I had taken him for granted too.

They put the casket onto a risen platform, and it hurt me to see that on top, unlike so many other coffins that I had seen, were no flowers. Nothing. This alone was enough to make me want to cry. Raising my head against the pastor's words, I stepped forward and felt myself walking toward the casket, biting my lip to the point of its bleeding. I held a dandelion – _a_ _weed, _I thought to myself in disappointment – behind my back before setting it quietly on the lid. The pastor and two helpers just stared at me like I had never been there before, and at this, I felt more tears escape my eyes as I turned back to sit by my two friends, torn between mixed memories of love and hate for the boy.

I turned to look at Toby, who had finally broken himself down into fits of tears, silent drops sliding down his pale cheeks. I felt horrible for him, and turned to look at Sean, who appeared to be staring into space by now. This was a terrible and fragile time for everyone.

"The casket is opening," the pastor said into the microphone, clearing his throat for a moment and beckoning us to come forward. I'd only been to two funerals in my life, and this was by far the least formal and most rushed. It was only a day after the shooting, and we were dressed in casual clothes, as we'd only just noticed the funeral time in the newspaper, in 'Obituaries.' Rick's was blank except for the time of the funeral, and I supposed it was because his parents were too embarrassed to say that he'd died in a shooting that he'd started. Stepping toward the coffin, I felt myself shudder as tears fell down my cheeks and I let out a cry of despair. I was surprised when I felt not Toby's, but Sean's hand upon my own, to comfort me as I leaned into him.

There in front of me was Rick Murray's body, and although it was cleansed from the blood that had dirtied it earlier, his eyes were rolled backward in a silent trance, or what appeared to be like one, and his hair was a filthy mess. The church staff had hardly taken any time to make him look decent, but they'd done a minimum job, I supposed. I felt a choke in my throat as I looked over at him. Sean held my hand tightly, pulling gently on my index finger, which made me want to cry even more.

"_Toby doesn't deserve this. No one deserves this."_ – Rick, Time Stands Still (Part 1)


	2. The First Confession

**Disclaimer: **Since I forgot to in the first chapter… shrugs Anyway, I don't own any of the characters in this story UNLESS - big dance - I happen to make one or two up out of my own imagination, which _could _happen in this chapter, but I don't know.

**A/N: **I'd like to thank you all so much for commenting on my last chapter! I took it all into thought and figured that I might as well answer your reviews and questions.

1. The funeral's rushed setting was necessary for the story, as you read this chapter and later ones as well. Mrs. Murray

I visited Mrs. Murray after the funeral. I guess it just seemed like she might've needed some feminine support, having gone through so much drama. Nearly all of my friends – save Liberty and a few others – are guys, so it's hard for me to get them to understand what I'm going through. Take, for instance, my 'menstrual cycle.' I would _never _for the life of me be able to make them _understand _that. Not that I'd really talk to them about it anyway, but I'd done it before, and I still believe that there's nothing about it that is to be ashamed of.

Leaving without so much as a second word, I bid my friends goodbye for a moment and went to find the woman in a small room off to the right. She was crying, and for a second I didn't know whether to disturb her or not. Mrs. Murray appeared to be in a time of privacy, and sometimes we all just needed to be alone, right? Either way, I decided to speak to her, and as I stepped toward her with a sympathetic expression on my face, I took a seat next to her.

Her outfit was no less than that of a woman going through her midlife crisis, trying to find ways to become young again. I suspected she was one of those at-home mothers that smoked cigarettes all the time and tried overwhelmingly hard to be a 'good mom.' I suddenly became aware of how wonderful my own mother must have seemed to others, to Sean, to Rick, or even to Toby. All of them seemed to have problems with their parents, and mine… Well, Mom and I connected in a way that most mothers and daughters didn't. My father? We won't get into that.

"What do you want," she asked in more of a demand than a question, her hair exactly the same shade as Rick's had been. I suddenly felt sorry for her, knowing that as she looked in the mirror each morning, she'd be reminded of her son's death just by her own appearance alone. They were so alike, it was amazing.

I didn't know what to say, and as I swiped a golden blonde hair from in front of my eyes and tucked it delicately behind my left ear, watching her every move as I did so. "I… I can leave you alone," I reasoned, starting to stand up, but she held her hand out to stop me.

There were so many problems in my life, and as I felt my eyes start to burn with the sting of tears, I looked over at her, trying to forget them. Maybe, if I wished hard enough, I wouldn't have the guilt weighing impassively on my shoulders, the guilty truth of why Rick had died. He'd been trying to shoot me.

I doubted that Mrs. Murray knew any of this. She didn't look like she liked me anyway, but all the same, I stayed by her side, unsure of what to do. I could tell that she was watching me too, even though my eyes remained transfixed on the floor below me, as if I were in one of those aquariums that went underneath the ocean's surface; as if there were sharks swimming beneath my feet.

"Rick… He never did anything wrong," Mrs. Murray said rather naively, gently licking her lips to rinse them of tears. I looked out the window before finally looking up at the woman and nodding, not necessarily believing her. "Why did he die? Tell me everything. P-please."

I hesitated. Everything? That would mean telling her that I had been cruel to Rick, It would mean that I would have to tell her what had happened to him after the competition. Most importantly, it would mean telling her that Rick had tried to shoot _me, _and that he'd missed when tackled by Sean. "It's complicated," I said simply, sighing. It wasn't that I didn't want to get my feelings out to _anyone, _just not her. Not the mother of the boy who, in a way, _I _had killed, in accomplice with Sean. It felt horrible, I wasn't sure if those feelings would ever go away. I let out a loose breath and stared her in the eyes before drawing my attention to her knees instead. For some reason, it was a lot easier to talk to them than to her.

"I… I didn't know Rick very well," I started, my voice shaky from crying. There were tears half-dried on my cheeks, and I had to wonder – there was a time when they just stopped. Stopped moving. Frozen. Dead.

Everything had to stop someday. Everything had to die, from the tears on my cheeks to the people that stood around me, so full of laughter and emotion. Degrassi was always full of some sort of emotion, it seemed, even more than other schools. I coughed, then continued my story. "But he seemed n-nice. Kids at our school… They were making fun of him after…" I looked up at her, hoping she knew about Terri so I wouldn't have to make her even more miserable. She nodded, and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. "After that. And I guess he just… couldn't take it anymore." I couldn't talk any longer than that, and by now, tears were cascading down my cheeks in long strokes. I hadn't cried so hard in… Almost as long as I can remember. Guilt poured upon my shoulders, down my chest, and drained through my toes. I felt undeserving, but it didn't last long as Mrs. Murray put her arm on my back, hugging me close to her. It felt awkward.

"It's okay, I miss him too," she said quietly, rocking me back and forth.

"That's not it," I blurted out, but I instantly regretted my words. "I mean, I-I miss him, but there's something… Never mind."

Nonetheless, I wouldn't get away with such things by now. She looked at me and I could see a tear line on her cheek, wavered and smooth. "What, what is it?"

I couldn't talk. I instead simply shook my head and stood up, hesitating by the doorway. "I… I can't. I'll tell you… another time."

But the next thing that the woman said made me stay, yet again. This time, it wasn't heartfelt or warming, but cruel and foul. "What, too afraid to say that the boy out there… That he killed my son?"

I turned toward her and felt my eyes sting with a mix of anger and sadness. "Sean didn't shoot Rick," I said firmly, staring her in the eyes. I couldn't stand people like this. So I said it. "He shot himself. After trying to shoot _me._"

To tell the truth, I was really surprised. I would've never guessed that I would've been able to say that. Sure, I was an outspoken person, but still… It didn't make sense, not really. Mrs. Murray was speechless. Her mouth was wide open, a gap in her round and slightly flabby face. I raised my eyebrows, turned on my heel, and left.

Sean and Toby were waiting outside. Both of them looked at me with worried expressions as wet tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt like a fool for doing such things, but what would anyone else have done? I guess it was the shock that scared me, knowing that he was _trying _to shoot _me. _I had done the wrong. It had been my turn to die, not Rick's.

"Emma?" Toby asked, walking after me as I paced away from them and collapsed into a hard wooden bench. I couldn't talk to him about things the way I used to, but we'd become a lot closer this year. "Do you want to go home?" I nodded my head and just briefly made eye contact with Sean, but it didn't last long.


	3. The Priceless Toll of Fate

Isn't it strange, how you can be such good friends with someone one day, and be miles away from them the next? I guess I could say that I've been through this sort of thing a lot. First, there was Sean, my first real 'boyfriend,' a relationship that most would've guessed to last forever. Then, there was Manny, who I'd been betrayed by for the lust and desire of a 'popular' life. Even J.T., who had always been the goofy clown that would do anything to make me feel better, even _he _had changed to make himself look better. Granted, it wasn't like he didn't talk to me anymore, but there was certainly a gap in our friendship – especially after he had started to date Manny.

I guess, in a way, that I had changed too. I'd started hanging out with the well-known upper-classmen, like Jimmy or Paige. I'd even begun to make peace with Alex, a feat that most wouldn't have dared to accomplish. I was certainly very different from my lanky grade-seven self from so long ago. One might assume me to have been oblivious then, blind to my peers' feelings about me. Most found me annoying, obnoxious, and defensive – but what about Toby? I had completely ignored the boy who had daunted on me for so long, oblivious to his emotions. I remember one night when Manny had brought him up, but I'd neglected to listen.

Now that I've found out, I suppose that I might've acted different had I known of his feelings for me at the time. Toby wasn't a bad person at all, and although he wasn't the most attractive guy at Degrassi, he was one of the few that had been there for me – one of the few that hadn't completely ignored me.

I wondered these things quietly as I stepped into the dimly lit kitchen of my house, followed closely by Sean and Toby. The door shut quietly as I took a seat on the sofa, and immediately turned on the television. Toby was practically glued to the screen, but Sean simply shrugged and stood up. "Emma?" He asked quietly, and I noted that he'd abandoned his hat today. I nodded, and turned to him. "Do you want me to get you something from the fridge?"

I shook my head, although my stomach growled precisely at that time. Toby was flipping through the channels every second, until he finally settled on a low-rated reality show called, "Date My Dad!" I'd never much approved of it, but then again, I hadn't watched it either. It had a typical plot for a reality show - a girl begins to date the man of her dreams, only to find out that it was her father after undergoing cosmetic surgery. If the father can keep his mouth shut and continue with the scheme, he receives one thousand dollars at the end of the show.

Disgusting.

"Are you sure?" Sean asked again, having obviously heard my stomach and its pain. "I was going to get some water anyway, so if you want some lunch, it'd be fine…"

"I can get it myself," I muttered rather defensively, but I hadn't really been paying attention to my tense mood at the time as I stood up and walked into the kitchen, before getting out a plate and a glass for Sean. "Okay, we have water, soda, milk, and some old egg-nog. Take your pick."

"Water's fine," Sean replied, joining me in the kitchen. I glanced over at him and shrugged, my eyes turning back to Toby. His glasses were just barely sliding off his nose, but he irritably shoved them back up again, his hazel eyes focused directly on the screen before he shook himself out of the trance and turned to look over at me.

"Are you okay, Em?" Toby asked gently, a worried expression on his narrow face. I'd always been reminded of a horse when I looked at him, but I probably looked like a giraffe to some people, so maybe I shouldn't have been thinking about such things. "You didn't look so good at the funeral."

"I'm fine," I lied, swiping a rough blonde hair in my fingers and tucking it behind my ear. I was clearly hesitating, and as I looked down at the knife with which I was spreading my peanut butter, tears came to my eyes. Weapons. I'd always been against them – even in my environmental protest stage (which I was still partially in). But now, I had other reasons as well. Rick. I'd heard about the incident at Columbine High School in the United States below us, but for some reason, I'd never believed that it could _actually happen _at Degrassi. We'd never had anything like that happen before, and I still felt like it was partially my fault.

Sean and I exchanged glances, and he hesitated at the tears in my eyes. We took a seat on the sofa and looked down at the ground, and I could only wonder what the other two were thinking about. "So… Does anyone know how long school's out?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"Two days," Toby replied nonchalantly, but it was at that time that my cell phone started to ring. I held up my hand to signal them to wait a moment, and I went to fetch my purse. Answering the phone, I swallowed and spoke. "Hello?"

"Hi, Emma." I knew the voice well, but I couldn't manage to understand _why _they'd be calling here. Why, I was half-expecting to answer and hear Mrs. Murray's voice! But this… This confused me.

"Hi…" I answered, hesitating. "Manny."

Manny. We'd spoken, sure, but we were nowhere near friends. Nowhere. Her ego had gotten ahead of her years ago, and I'd just had enough of it, I supposed. I hesitated for a second, noticing my two friends' confusion as to who had been on the telephone. Finishing, I added, "What do you want?"

Maybe it was a bit rude, but what else was I supposed to say?

"I need to talk to you… about J.T.," she said softly, her voice almost at a whisper. "It's important."

I nodded and rolled my eyes, but it was obvious that she wouldn't be able to see those things. "Okay," I reasoned, glancing over my shoulder at the table in our kitchen, where my sandwich lay untouched. "What is it? Make it quick, I don't have much time."

In my head, I continued: _…for you._

Manny's voice was scared, timid, and unlike any way I'd ever heard it. She was usually an assertive girl, full of personality, but now she sounded as if she had no idea what to do. I was confused – what could be so wrong that Manny Santos would become so dazed?

"He's… Em, he's here… But he's not breathing." By now, it was clear that Manny's voice had turned to sobs, and I could feel her stares upon his body even through the telephone. "I… I don't know what to do… God, Emma, please…"

I was alert, and I turned to look over at Toby and Sean with worried eyes. "Give me three minutes, Manny. I'll be right over." With that, I hung up and rushed to put my shoes on, not even bothering to grab a jacket. Motioning to my friends, they followed me out the door with no explanation as to where they were going.

A minute later, we arrived at her house – for we'd always lived on the same street, so it wasn't a long walk at all. In fact, we'd ran, so it was even a shorter duration. I tried to open the door only to find it locked, but Manny's footsteps were rushing to the door immediately, and it was opened in a flash.

I'd never seen her like this before. Her eyes were welled with tears that had streamed down her cheeks, and her normally luscious black hair was ratted in knots and tangles down her olive shoulders. Manny was no longer Manny, but a distorted, ruined version of herself. I shook these thoughts out of my head and darted into the house, collapsing in disbelief beside J.T.'s lifeless body.

Toby looked down and stared, and I felt a sting of pity for him. He'd just lost his best friend, Rick Murray, and now… J.T. was unconscious. This was a strange and slightly awkward reunion of our broken friendships – I with Manny and Sean, and Toby with J.T. It didn't make sense.

"What happened?" I said in a panic to Manny, listening for a heartbeat. Good, still there.

Manny looked up at me, and for the first time in years, I was actually _glad _to see her. One – she wasn't glaring at me. Two – I needed her. "We were just talking about the, well, you know, and he started to breathe really hard, and Em… He just… He just stopped… And fell…"

"Do you know if he has any problems, Toby? Like asthma, or anything like that?" I said to him, swallowing my own saliva in panic. The windows were cracked open just barely, and I could hear someone outside. It was at that time that the door burst open, and Mr. Santos came in through the door.

"What is going _on _here?!" He yelled in a clear British accent. Manny had lived in the Philippines for three years of her life, where her father – who had been English – had met her mother, native to the area. We were all on the floor, crowded around J.T.'s frail body, and Manny's father looked as if he were on a regal mission in the British Airforce. "Come on, we have to get this boy to the hospital. Manuela, you need to call for an ambulance, _now. _Go. I'm going to try to figure out the problem."

Eight minutes and fifty-two seconds later, we were in the ambulance, and tears were streaming down my cheeks as I laid my head on Sean's shoulder, not thinking. Manny was staring down at J.T., her hair covering her eyes.

Isn't it strange, how we can be torn apart one day and brought together by destiny the next? Sometimes we have to undergo the deepest tragedies in order to bring us to realize our mistakes, to forgive each other. I guess this was one of those times, and I could only hope that J.T. would make it out alive.


End file.
